


Watching Over You

by twdsunshine



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-09
Updated: 2019-03-09
Packaged: 2019-11-14 15:12:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,372
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18054917
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/twdsunshine/pseuds/twdsunshine
Summary: When Beta notices the reader struggling with life amongst the Whisperers, will he let her walk away?





	Watching Over You

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so this happened. It’s probably majorly out of character as I haven’t read the comics, and Beta’s only appeared in one episode of the show so far, but I kinda hope the way I’ve written it works? It just came to me and I wrote it in like, an hour, so fingers crossed it doesn’t suck! I'm not gonna lie, it's mainly inspired by my undying love for Ryan Hurst and Opie Winston. Enjoy!

He watched her. It was easy enough to do.  She seemed to orbit around him without thinking about it, drawn, he supposed, to the safety he could provide.  He cut an intimidating figure, even with his knees crooked and his shoulders slumped, stumbling along like the dead did, meaty hands swinging uselessly at his sides.  It was in the eyes, he thought.  Eyes of a killer, darkened further by the ash from the fire that he smeared over the small slithers of skin visible beneath his mask; the glint of the gold between his lips when they parted to suck in a breath, before his teeth gritted together again.  He was dangerous and he looked it, and so she sought to shuffle in his shadow, and he pretended not to know she was there.

But he did know.  He could feel her presence, raising goosebumps over his flesh, and he found himself angling his body so that he could see her frightened stare behind the grotesque leather of the skin she wore.  He hated that fear.  It stuck in his throat and infiltrated his dreams on the rare occasion that he allowed himself to sleep.  It radiated from her and he wished he knew how to drive it away.  Of course, they all despised it, what they had to do to survive in this world, disguising themselves as the dead, a sickening masquerade.  But most had resigned themselves to it, just as he had done.  This was the world now and if it meant that they got to live another day, then it was worth the stench of death that penetrated their pores and the horrifying crowd they roamed with.  It was a means to an end.  Not her.  She flinched each time the hood was slipped over her head, her fingers balling into fists as she was laced into it, sentenced to wander forever as a living corpse.  He’d seen the way she’d scrub her face clean as soon as she was allowed to ditch her mask for the day, clawing at her cheeks until he thought they might bleed, digging her nails into her scalp as she tried to wash away the morbidity of what she was forced to do.  

She hated it even more when the dead joined them on their travels.  As soon as the growls and snarls mingled with their own, her arms would twitch as though she wanted nothing more than to cover her ears and pretend that she was somewhere, anywhere, else.  He knew their rancid breath and the rotting meat that hung from their bones turned her stomach.  That must be why she barely ate, not bothering to forage as the others did when they came to a halt beneath the canopies of the forest.  Instead, she’d find the base of a tree to tuck herself into, wrap her arms around her knees and sit for hours, staring into space, traumatised and ever so slightly broken.  

If Alpha knew just how much he wanted to fix her, she’d spit in his face, of that he was certain.  Weakness, she’d snap.  Natural selection.  If the girl was broken, best she fell behind and became a meal for the dead ones before she brought them all down with her.  That’s what the weak ones did, after all.  It was only a matter of time before they lost their minds, and then people would die.  Alpha had seen it before and wouldn’t allow it to happen again.  But somehow he knew that this girl… She wasn’t like that.  She was too controlled, too deep inside of herself.  If he hadn’t been studying her so intently, he doubted he’d even have noticed her struggle.  She wasn’t a volcano, about to erupt and leave death and devastation in her path.  No, if anything she had a vortex whirling inside of her, churning up who she was and who she used to be, tearing it apart until all that was left was a hollow frame, just as much a mask as the skins they left to dry on stakes around their camp.  For some inexplicable reason, he didn’t want that for her.

And so, he watched her.  He noticed how she turned her back on the rest of the group when she lay down to sleep at night, curling up on her side and fixing her gaze on the darkness before her.  He noticed the small gasp that escaped her when Alpha killed one of their own, slicing the treasonous bastard’s head off, her eyes cold and steely, and he saw her turn away, her shoulders shaking as she tried to hold it together in the face of casual murder.  And he noticed the day that she disappeared, the place where she’d sat just moments before empty when he’d turned back in her direction, the ground still warm from the heat of her body.

They didn’t go after anyone that went missing.  That was the rule.  They weren’t family.  They were there to ensure each others’ survival, safety in numbers, but if one of those numbers ran into trouble… Well, they were on their own.  He’d abided by that rule time and time again, barely allowing the thought of attempting to track down those they’d lost to enter across his mind.  But this time he couldn’t.  This time was different.

He didn’t tell anyone where he was going.  Simply adjusted his mask, squared his shoulders and followed the trail of barely visible footprints into the shadows.  The gloom made her hard to trace, but he knew her, knew the state she was in, the torment that simmered in her brain, and he knew she was in no mood to meander.  She would be determined, striding out with the self confidence that someone only truly possesses before a fall, cutting a straight line through the wood and out the other side.  She was making her getaway, he was sure of it, and a small part of him wondered whether he should just let her go.  But he couldn’t bear it, the thought of her out here alone, vulnerable.  And so he kept moving, covering the ground quickly, his heavy boots crunching through the undergrowth.

When he broke through the trees and saw the barn, one open door swaying slightly in the breeze, he knew his search had been successful.  If he’d been a less hardened, cynical version of himself, he may have admitted that his pulse quickened, just a little, as he crossed the open grass towards the yard.  For the first time in a long time, he might even have acknowledged that perhaps he felt his own humanity burning within him, when he’d thought it had deserted him somewhere between his first kill and donning his death mask, around the time that the whispers started.  But there it was, warming his chest, like a beacon, he hoped, calling her home.

The door creaked when he pulled it open wide, hinges stiff from lack of use, though the wood flexed beneath his touch, and he heard her cry of fear when he stepped inside.  The air was cooler within its walls, and he hoped that her noticeable shivers could be attributed to that and not the fear that his presence awakened within her.

‘What are you doing here?’  Her voice shook as she challenged him, and he opened his mouth to respond, but he was silenced by the feeling of something soft, sliding beneath his foot.  He stooped to retrieve her skin from the dusty floor, clasping it between his thick fingers as he eyed her warily.

‘I came for you.’  When did he start to speak like that?  A deep, rasping whisper.  When he’d become one of them, one of the dead, he knew.  But when then had he forgotten how to speak normally, without that menacing edge to his tone that made her back away?

'No.  No!  You weren’t supposed to!  That’s not what we do!  Alpha… She says-’

'She doesn’t know I’m here.  She doesn’t know you’re gone.’  He took a step forward, then, noticing her eyes widen with panic, changed course and set her mask down on a rickety workbench that stood against one wall.  He kept his back turned as his hands went to the laces at the back of his own mask, fumbling slightly as he tried to navigate the matted hair that fell over them, but finally he succeeded in loosening them enough to tug the skin from his head.  'Come back with me now and she’ll never know you left.’

Her gaze was fixed on his when he span in a slow circle back towards her, her fear seeming to lessen slightly presented with his true face.  He wasn’t sure that she’d ever seen it before, his mask more familiar to him than the features he was born with, but it had felt important somehow to offer her this gesture.  ‘I-I can’t.  I can’t do it anymore.  I can’t live like that.’

'The dead own the earth.  If we want to live, we have to become them.’

'But… I don’t know… I can’t, okay?  It’s not worth it.  I can’t put that mask back on!’

So, maybe Alpha had been right.  Maybe the ones who struggled would always lose it eventually.  But this girl, she’d stolen away to fall apart where she couldn’t be a risk to any of those she travelled with, and that heightened the respect he held for her, even as tears shone in her eyes.  'You have to.  You won’t make it alone.’

'Maybe you should just kill me now then!  Go on!  End it!  Because I’m not going back with you!  I won’t!’

It was instinct that had him drawing his knife and closing the distance between them, bringing the blade to her throat.  Blind obedience, that was a trait that Alpha had instilled in him early on.  Up close, she was at least a foot shorter than him, maybe more, so tiny in comparison, and he relaxed his grip even as she drew herself up, staring him down, ready to meet her end.  

'Do it!’

'No.’  He huffed in frustration, sliding the weapon back into its holster and running a hand through his hair, amazed as he did so at just how long it had grown.  He wondered if it showed now beneath his hood.  

'Dammit!’  She twisted away from him, aiming a kick at a bucket that lay abandoned on the concrete floor and sending it rattling away from her, the sound reverberating off the walls.

Her shoulders were shaking again and, despite himself, the cold and callous monster that he knew himself to be, he moved up behind her, laying his hand on the curve of her waist and marvelling when it spanned from just beneath the swell of her breasts to the sharp jut of her hipbone.  She tensed at the contact but remained still, breathing heavily, her distress so potent that he thought he might taste it on the air.

'You don’t know what it’s like.’  Her head was bowed, as though she were speaking to the toes of her boots, but he knew her words were meant for him.  'To be afraid all the time.  To wake up every morning wondering if today’s the day you’re gonna…’  She tailed off, swallowing hard, her head giving an almost imperceptible shake.  'You don’t understand.’

'I won’t let anything happen to you.’

Disbelieving eyes locked on his as she turned, his fingertips trailing over her spine until his hand found its place on her opposite side, and he wondered why she was allowing him to touch her when she’d seen time and time again just what he was capable of.  ‘Why?’

'I want to keep you safe.’

'Even if it means breaking the rules?’

'I’m here.’  And that should mean everything.  He’d never gone against Alpha before, not once.  She was his number one, the one he’d follow to the gates of hell if she commanded it, and yet…

'But why?  I don't… I don’t get it.’

'I watch you.’  He inched closer, the barest hint of a smile gracing his lips when she had to crane her neck to maintain eye contact.  'I know you.  You’re different.’

'I am?’

'Come back with me.’

An internal war seemed to wage behind her gaze, sparkling irises clouding over as she debated with her herself, intense and confused.  And then, finally, she nodded.  'Okay.’

He may have imagined that she’d pushed herself up on tiptoes, her body coming flush with his for a fraction of a second before he pulled away.  He may have imagined velvety lips falling in disappointment and shoulders slumping in defeat.  He may not have known her as well as he thought.  She stayed silent as he slowly slipped her mask back over her head, taking his time to tie it, enjoying the feel of her hair tickling his knuckles and the softness of the skin on the back of her neck.  And then he took one deep breath before pulling his own back on, so worn now and molded to his features that it felt almost comfortable.  The beacon of humanity in his chest flickered and extinguished.

That deep growl of a whisper suited this version of him far better, he knew, as he headed for the door, pausing only for a second to glance over his shoulder at her.  ‘Stay close to me.’

'I will.’

He still watched her.  That moment in the barn - that exchange between two people who didn’t exist anymore, not in this world, but that had re-emerged, just for a matter of minutes - had stayed where it belonged: locked away in the back of his head.  He’d take it out sometimes, in the dead of night, as the rest of the group slept, and revel in the thaw it brought to his frozen core, but by morning it was caged up again, almost forgotten, but not quite.  It was the same for her, he knew.  They didn’t speak, gave no indication that anything special or meaningful had ever passed between them, but she remembered.  She felt it.  Because now, when he watched her, she was watching him.


End file.
